


Brooklyn Bound

by emphasisonem



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/pseuds/emphasisonem
Summary: So, a super hot guy sat next to me on the train home and apparently he’s from Brooklyn too, Steve’s fingers fly across his phone’s touchscreen as he sends a message to his friends, glancing furtively up at the brunet for a moment before he types, HELP ME.   In which Steve and Bucky are heading back to Brooklyn for Thanksgiving, meet on the train and accidentally swap phones.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: _Traveling back to Brooklyn for Thanksgiving, and I accidentally mixed up cell phones with the guy next to me on the train._
> 
> I know, I know, I have WIPs and other fic requests I should be working on, but I'm indulging in some holiday fics. Trust me, I'm still working on the other stuff, but I'm a slave to inspiration. The muse wants what it wants, and right now, the muse wants holiday fluff. That being said, I hope you enjoy this one :)

The train from Washington D.C. to New York City is predictably crowded, and Steve Rogers is wishing he’d managed to book an earlier seat home because the throng of people moving through the aisle is making him a little queasy. Given the number of holiday travelers trying to get home in time for Thanksgiving, Steve’s got no doubt he’s going to be stuck sitting next to someone, and with his luck they’ll want to _chat_.

Why, oh _why_ , did his film history professor have to assign a paper a week before Thanksgiving break? If the woman wasn’t so brilliant, he’d have half a mind to complain that it hadn’t been listed on the syllabus.

Steve types out a quick text in the GroupChat he and his friends use to communicate when they’re apart.

_Hope everybody made it home safe and sound, and that you’re enjoying yourselves while I’m stuck on the most crowded train of all time._

Natasha responds first with just the eye-roll emoji. Sam’s response follows a moment later, informing Steve that he’s the most melodramatic man of all time. Steve chuckles, setting the phone down in his lap as he sizes up the people walking through the train.

Steve’s heart nearly stops in his chest when he locks eyes with a striking young man. The brunet is clean-shaven, his dark hair slicked back away from his face. _And what a face._ Sharp cheekbones offset by soft, pink lips and large blue-gray eyes that seem to sparkle with amusement as they size Steve up.

The man’s soft, dark gray sweater brings out his beautiful eyes to an unfair advantage, and the dark brown leather of his bomber jacket contrasts nicely with his fair skin. And then the brunet is _smiling at him_ and yeah, Steve thinks this is probably what a heart attack feels like. But he smiles back.

The brunet nods toward the empty seat beside Steve, those pretty lips twisting into a smirk as he silently asks permission to sit. Steve’s terrified of embarrassing himself, but he finds himself nodding anyway.

After all, the chances of seeing this guy again are slim to none, right?

 

* * *

 

Bucky’s been working in D.C. for the better part of three years now as a member of Senator Kirsten Gillibrand’s communications team. Bucky loves it. He loves the late nights and the fast pace and the sense that he’s helping someone to do something _important_.

But he loves heading back home to Brooklyn to see his family even more than the hectic, transient city where he hangs his hat. D.C. is wonderful, but Brooklyn is home.

The train is packed, which is pretty standard over the holiday season. Bucky’s gotten lucky over the years, always sitting next to somebody who’s either quiet and leaves him to his own devices or engages him in interesting conversation. He’s hoping this year won’t be any different.

It’s at this moment that a young man with the most stunning blue eyes Bucky’s ever seen looks up at him. Those eyes are clear, bright pools, and they suck Bucky right in. Suddenly, he knows _exactly_ who he’d like to sit beside for the next couple of hours.

The young man flushes, his elfin features pinking beautifully, but he doesn’t break eye contact with Bucky. A swell of pleasure rises in Bucky’s chest. The brunet knows he’s a decent looking guy, but it’s always nice when somebody cute seems to appreciate his features. Bucky grins at the blond, keeping his expression friendly and open. The other man looks surprised, but pleasantly so, since he returns the smile.

The blond’s on the smaller side, Bucky observes, short and slender with finely drawn features. There’s a stubborn set to his jaw, though, a confidence in his gaze despite the blush on his cheeks.

Bucky can feel his lips curl into a smirk as he nods toward the empty seat next to the blond. The willowy young man nods, and Bucky slides into the seat, extending his hand once he’s settled.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” he grins, liking the way the blond looks up at him. “But you can call me Bucky. Happy to be your train buddy today.”

The blond shakes his head as if to clear it, but there’s a wide smile stretching across his delicate features as he replies, “Steve Rogers. Glad to meetcha.”

“Where ya headed, Steve?” Bucky asks in a way that he hopes is companionable and not nosy. Steve chuckles, running a hand through his short hair as he glances down at his lap and then meets Bucky’s eyes. The way he’s looking up at Bucky through long, dark lashes has the brunet thinking decidedly impure thoughts.

“Brooklyn,” Steve answers with a soft smile, jarring Bucky from the image of the slim blond on his knees.

“No shit!” Bucky exclaims, chuckling as the blond startles at his volume. “Me too!”

 

* * *

 

 _So, a super hot guy sat next to me on the train home and apparently he’s from Brooklyn too,_ Steve’s fingers fly across his phone’s touchscreen as he sends a message to his friends, glancing furtively up at the brunet for a moment before he types,  _HELP ME._

“So what do you do in D.C., Steve?” Bucky asks, and Steve looks up to see those blue-gray eyes gazing down at him. Bucky's eyes are soft and kind, crinkled at the corners because he’s smiling, and it takes Steve a second to remember how to speak.

“Uh, I’m a student,” Steve replies. “A senior at Johns Hopkins.”

Bucky’s eyes shoot up toward his hairline, and Steve can’t help grinning when the brunet says, “Great school. You must be pretty goddamn smart. That’d make you, what? Twenty-two?”

Steve shrugs, smiling bashfully as he feels his blush creep down his neck. He knows he’s a smart guy, but he can’t help how flustered he feels at the praise from this gorgeous man. “I guess so. And I’m twenty-one. I’ve got a summer birthday, so I was always younger than most of my classmates.”

“What are you studying?” Bucky asks, turning slightly in his seat so that he’s a little closer to Steve. Their arms brush, and Steve nearly jolts back at the contact, but he manages to sit still. The last thing he needs is to look like a complete idiot in front of this guy who seems like he might actually be interested in what Steve has to say.

“Film & media studies with a minor in visual arts,” Steve replies. Bucky nods, smiling, and it occurs to Steve that not asking Bucky what he does in D.C. would be rude. So he does.

“I work for Senator Gillibrand,” Bucky answers, and Steve can feel his eyes widen in surprise. “Communications team. I started right after I graduated.”

“Where’d you go to school?,” Steve asks, and Bucky laughs as Steve’s eyes widen comically when he replies, “Harvard.”

“Jesus,” Steve smiles, liking the way Bucky grins and blushes. “That’s incredible. How long have you been workin’ for her?”

“Three years,” Bucky answers, so Steve guesses the other man’s about 25 or so. Which is great; Steve’s always had a thing for guys who are a little older than he is. “It’s been a great experience so far.”

“I’ll bet,” Steve grins. “She seems like a great woman. Must be exciting to work in politics.”

Bucky shrugs. “I love it, and yeah, it can be. Of course, there are some days where it’s like watching paint dry, but I guess that applies to any job. Overall, it’s pretty much perfect.”

Steve nods, looking down at his phone as it begins to vibrate non-stop.

“Popular guy,” Bucky chuckles as Steve glances up with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, just some friends of mine,” Steve murmurs, and god, he’s gotta be fucking crimson by now considering how hot his face feels. “Givin’ me a hard time because I’m the only one of us who’s not home for the holidays yet.”

Bucky laughs, running a hand through his dark hair, and Steve aches to reach out and tangle his fingers in the tousled strands. They look so _soft_.

“Well don’t let me keep you from them,” Bucky grins, pulling a book from his messenger bag. “I can keep myself occupied. Feel free to interrupt my reading, though, whenever you’d like.”

Steve tries to swallow, but his mouth has gone dry at the mischievous glint in the other man’s eyes. So Steve just nods and proceeds to nearly swallows his tongue as Bucky winks at him and then opens his book.

Steve looks down, sliding his thumb across the touch screen to open the messages. Natasha requests a picture, a sentiment echoed by both Peggy and Angie. Sam tells him to grow a pair and talk to the guy. Clint, ever the romantic, suggests Steve drag the guy into one of the restrooms on the train for a little bit of fun.

 _It’s not the mile high club, but it’ll still pass the time_ , Clint has written, capping the message off with a winking emoji.

 _You guys are the worst,_ Steve replies. _And Sam, we were having a lovely chat until you all interrupted us._ Steve grins as he’s hit with a barrage of messages that all say essentially the same thing:  _If you were already talking to hot guy, why the fuck did you even bother looking at the GroupChat?_

Steve glances at Bucky out of the corner of his eye, and sees that the brunet appears to be deeply absorbed in his book. He does his best to aim his phone’s camera as subtly as possible and snaps a quick picture. He sends it, feeling a little guilty about it, but he tells himself it’s not really _that_ big a deal since it’s just being shared in a private chat. Steve friends promptly respond that he’s got good taste and that he needs to stop fucking texting them and talk to the guy.

So, Steve takes a deep breath and does just that.

 

* * *

 

Bucky lets the fact that the slender blond snaps a less-than-stealthy photo of him reading slide. Steve checking him out as he’d walked down the aisle of the train had been something of an ego boost, but a sneaky snapshot? Bucky’s got a feeling that maybe the bashful blond is discussing his train buddy with his friends.

Bucky doesn’t mind in the slightest.

Still, it’s a hell of an effort to keep the smirk from his face when Steve murmurs, “Buck?” a few moments later. Bucky dog-ears the page he’s on after finishing a paragraph, closes it, and then laughs at the stricken look on Steve’s face. The blond is staring at the paperback, and then dragging his eyes up to meet Bucky’s.

“You’re one of _those_ people?” Steve asks incredulously. Bucky grins and bats his eyelashes coyly, enjoying the look of incensed disbelief on the blond’s face.

“Steven, whatever do you mean?” Bucky asks, eyes wide and innocent even as his lips curl into shit-eating grin.

“Can’t you just use a bookmark?” Steve grumbles, glaring at the book and then up at Bucky, and the stubborn set of the blond’s jaw coupled with the defiance in those blue eyes has Bucky’s heart flipping in his chest. “Or a scrap of paper? Man, I used to get into fights with kids who’d dog-ear library books.”

 _“Steven!”_ Bucky mock gasps, clutching at his chest and delighting in the way those beautiful blue eyes narrow even further. He can’t help but wonder if it’s this easy to get Steve riled up in _other_ ways. “I would _never_ dog-ear a library book! Just books that I own. Besides, the book itself isn’t the most important thing. The _story_ , that’s what matters. A dog-eared book is just a sign of a well-loved story.”

“And to think, I was looking forward to chatting with you on this train ride,” Steve sighs, but he’s smiling now. Bucky thinks that might be just about the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“Well-” Bucky chuckles- “I can always go back to reading my book, but that does mean that I’ll eventually dog-ear another page. Do you want that on your conscience?”

And that’s how Bucky finds out that Steve’s laugh is somehow even more beautiful than his smile.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, c’mon,” Bucky reaches out to grab Steve as they step onto the platform in Penn Station. The past couple of hours have been nothing short of incredible as far as Steve’s concerned and he lets Bucky pull him along, liking the way the brunet threads his fingers through Steve’s so they won’t get separated in the crowd.

Once they’ve made it inside the station, Bucky turns to him with a smile. “I know you said you were just gonna take the subway, but why don’t you and I share a cab? You’re not far from me, you know.”

“Bucky, that’s really nice of you,” Steve begins, biting his lip and trying to ignore the way Bucky’s eyes flick down to his mouth for a second. “I just. I don’t have a lot of extra cash and the subway’s cheaper.”

“Cab’ll be my treat, Rogers,” Bucky chuckles, slinging an arm around Steve’s shoulders, and pulling him along. Steve guesses that settles it, so he just sighs and smiles. Really, with Bucky’s strong arm wrapped around him and the brunet’s spicy-sweet scent enveloping him, how can Steve complain?

They chat the whole ride home, both of them grinning every time their cabbie begins shouting at the other drivers on the road. At one point, the man brakes so suddenly that the two of them jolt forward, their phones falling from their laps and onto the floor. They laugh as the cabbie apologizes, telling him it’s no big deal as they grab for their phones.

Steve’s hardly paying attention since Bucky’s fingers are brushing gently against his own as they search the floor.

So it's not until he slides his thumb across the touch screen about twenty minutes after arriving home and encounters a prompt for a passcode that Steve realizes the two of them accidentally swapped phones. And that he has no idea where Bucky lives because the brunet had insisted the cabbie drop Steve off first.

“Oh shit,” Steve whispers, staring down at the phone in horror. Because his phone doesn’t have a passcode, which will make it fairly easy for Bucky to text or call his own phone so they can swap back.

But if Bucky sees the GroupChat…

“Fuck me,” Steve groans, flinging himself onto his bed and praying for a quick and merciful death.

 

* * *

 

Bucky doesn’t check his phone for a couple of hours, too busy catching up with his parents and his younger sister. When he does, he sees a bunch of GroupChat messages on his screen. Which is odd because one, he doesn’t have that app on his phone, and two, even if he did, he doesn’t know these names.

Bucky slides his finger across the touchscreen, and it opens up immediately.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky muses. “Musta grabbed Steve’s phone by mistake in the cab. I should text’m.”

He types out a couple of quick messages to the blond, including the passcode to his phone, and then asks Steve if they can meet at a nearby bar to exchange phones and maybe grab a quick beer. Steve responds almost instantaneously in the affirmative.

Bucky grins, staring down at the screen. He knows he really shouldn’t, but the temptation to look at the GroupChat is too much to resist. Especially since he’d seen his name in a couple of the messages.

Bucky skims the conversation, his smile growing wider by the minute.

 

* * *

 

Steve perches on a bar stool, glancing at the door every couple minutes to see if Bucky’s arrived. He can’t keep the smile from his face when the brunet walks through the door, waving Bucky over to the seat he’s saved.

“Thank god you don’t have a passcode on your phone,” Bucky chuckles as he slides onto the stool, smiling at the bartender as he orders one of the beers on tap. Steve nods, blushing, as he holds out Bucky’s phone. Bucky grabs it and then pulls Steve’s from his pocket and slides it across the bartop.

Bucky doesn’t say anything about the GroupChat, and it doesn’t look like Steve has any new notifications, so he assumes he’s safe. He’s certainly not going to bring it up and risk questions.

It’s only when the two of them are leaving the bar and Bucky’s hands are pushing Steve gently until his back meets the brick wall of the building, that Steve remembers that old saying about making assumptions.

“So,” Bucky practically purrs, and Steve barely suppresses a shudder at the heat in the brunet’s gaze as Bucky looks down at him. “Since you snapped that not-so-sneaky photo of me on the train earlier, I was a little curious about what you had to say about me to your friends, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth is completely dry and the closest he can get to a word is, “Guh.”

“I wasn’t disappointed,” Bucky grins, running a gentle finger down the side of Steve’s face. “Especially since I think you’re pretty hot too.”

“You-” Steve croaks, eyes wide and knees shaking- “You do?”

“I do,” Bucky chuckles, tipping Steve’s chin up. There’s desire swirling in those stormy eyes, but there’s also a warmth, a fondness that takes Steve’s breath away. “I also think you're sweet and interesting and funny. And I think you should let me call you after the holiday when we’re both back in D.C. I’d love to take you out some time.”

“You?” Steve breathes, blinking rapidly to try to clear his thoughts. “That is, I- yeah. Yes. I would like that.”

“Good,” Bucky murmurs, leaning forward to kiss Steve’s cheek, his lips so close to the corner of Steve’s mouth that he can practically taste the brunet. As Bucky backs away, Steve’s glad he’s leaning against the wall because he’s not quite sure his legs can hold him at the moment. “Happy Thanksgiving, Steve.”

“Hap-” Steve stammers, fingers skimming the place where Bucky’s lips had lingered a moment ago. “Happy Thanksgiving, Buck.”

“And for the record-” Bucky chuckles as he backs down the sidewalk- “I absolutely would have let you have your wicked way with me in one of those restrooms.”

The brunet winks, turns on his heel and rounds the corner before Steve can even begin to process what’s just happened. The blond stands there for a few moments, breathing deeply as he tries to regain his composure. Once he can think semi-clearly again, he opens up the GroupChat app.

 _You will never,_ he types, _guess what just happened to me._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
